Casper The Commuting Cat: The True Story Of The Cat Who Rode The Bus And Stole Our Hearts

‘What?’ I shrieked. I hadn’t expected that and would have thought the cat rescue people would have given me that information when I took him home.

The vet asked me what I was going to do, but it seemed quite clear to me: Casper wasn’t my cat. There was somebody out there, distraught that their cat had been missing for some time, possibly assuming that he was dead. ‘I have to find out who he’s registered to,’ I said. ‘And I’ll have to give him back, won’t I?’

I went home with a heavy heart. Casper scooted out of his basket and went upstairs without a care in the world, as I threw myself down on the sofa and wondered what I would do without him. He had already become such a big part of our lives that I couldn’t bear to think about giving him up. It would undoubtedly be the right thing to do and I just had to focus on that.

I rang Cats Protection as soon as I felt able to. After I’d told them what had happened and given them the registration number the vet had found, the woman from Cats Protection called the company that keeps all the details. The time passed very slowly as I waited to hear what they’d learned. Within thirty minutes, she rang me back with a request that delighted me, but which perplexes me to this day. ‘Sue, please keep him,’ she pleaded. ‘There’s no way he can go back to the place he came from; it would be heartbreaking. Please, will you let him stay with you?’

Of course this was what I’d wanted all along. I loved Casper dearly, but what was going on? All I could get from her was that he’d been living in a terrible environment and Cats Protection couldn’t allow him to go back there. I got the impression that Casper had escaped from whatever horrible life he’d led and lived rough for a while before being taken to the rescue centre by some kind person ten months before I re-homed him.

I was delighted by the news that Casper would officially be mine. The Cats Protection lady said that the details on the chip records would be changed immediately to reflect the change in ownership. From that point, I felt that Casper was genuinely mine, but I often wondered what sort of life he must have had.

As time went on, we found out more about him: how he seemed unafraid of traffic, how much he loved cars and lorries and how dogs left him totally unfazed. I picked up a few other hints from the cat rescue lady, and when I pieced it all together, the most likely scenario seemed to be that he had lived with a travelling community. By saying this, I’m not casting aspersions on people who choose that lifestyle, but if Casper had been moved from pillar to post, then it wouldn’t have been the best environment for him, but it would explain why he had no fear of other animals and why he was drawn to vehicles. Still, as with so many of my cats, I would never know the full story. I would simply have to ensure that while he was with me I gave him – and them – the best life possible and didn’t dwell on the past.

I wondered where Casper went. There would be days when he stayed nearby and would come as soon as I called – or when he got a whiff of turkey roll – but there were other times when he wouldn’t come back for hours no matter how long or how loudly I called his name. He had such wanderlust.

He had little fear of dogs, which worried me, as I thought he might meet his match one day. He would lie in the grass wherever we lived and never flinch when dogs went past. In fact, one summer, a neighbour had a lovely little spaniel puppy she used to walk at the same time every day. The puppy would strain at the leash every time it got to our garden path, where Casper lay idly watching the world go by. I think he was desperate to play, even with a cat, but Casper never flinched and never raised his hackles. He looked at the puppy as if he were just another pedestrian going about his business.

Some time after we got Cassie, we moved to Frome in Somerset. I always worried when we changed location, as it can take cats a while to get their bearings. I tried to keep them indoors until they realized they were in a new home and they had some idea of the new smells and sounds around them The old cottage we bought had a huge stone wall around it, which Casper couldn’t get over by himself. Every time he managed to sneak out, he would have a jolly good try at scaling it, even though it was impossible. Eventually he discovered a gate, which, though closed and locked, he could squeeze around. On the other side of the wall was a car park linked to the local doctor’s surgery, and I worried that he was hanging around cars again. However, it was clear that it would take a greater force than me to keep this cat indoors, so I had no option but to let him wander every now and again.